Page 32 - Billy Graham in Heaven

The Gulf Love
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forced her to empathize with the emotions of war. All she felt was bombs exploding people. Republican Guards lay sweltering in deep holes as bombs blew them apart or drowned them in sand. Baghdad civilians were torn limb from limb if they were lucky. If not, they were trapped underground in exploded bomb shelters, tortured by shrapnel as they slowly suffocated. Israel threatened nukes as heartless Scuds blew up their civilians. Americans raised in pastoral forests and prairies died painfully in the stark-raving desert. It was a constant hurricane in her ears.
Cathy groaned. Her usually intense eyes became an impenetrable blank. Her face contorted into anguish. Jake looked and was horrified for a moment. Then he realized just how powerful Cathy’s empathic powers were. Her expression had become a face of war!
“What a woman,” Jake thought surging with appreciation. He zoomed from revelry to reality and tried to comfort Cathy with a hug. She pushed him away.
“You’re enjoying this war,” she growled menacingly, “probably as much as the most gung-ho politician. As much as the generals flippantly moving pins on maps, each pin representing thousands of flesh-and-blood deaths and horrors.”
“You just need to get used to history,” Jake thinly smiled, shocked that his sweetness could speak with such venom. “This is our chance to highlight war’s brutality, but we have to achieve a heroic nonchalance to do it. You should see the article in my head.”
“Yeah, your heroic heartless head.”
“Until the war is directly harming you or yours, there’s time to propagandize,” Jake maintained.